


Party Games

by hearteating



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Espionage, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Trick or Treat: Chocolate Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 01:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearteating/pseuds/hearteating
Summary: Agent Romanoff's mission goes in an unexpected direction.





	Party Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scioscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioscribe/gifts).



> I was so excited to see someone else likes Nick/Natasha I had to write something. Hope you enjoy it!

The only thing worse than a corporate gala was a government one. Fury hated these events-- Pierce was better at the schmoozing and hand-shaking than he was. Pierce wasn't here though, so Fury had to smile at people trying to suck up to him all night and play nice with the higher-ups from the other departments like they didn't all hate each other on a professional level, if not a personal one. At least these things didn’t happen that often.

“Director Fury,” a man with brown hair and a blandly forgettable face smiled and extended his hand. “James Cornish. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Fury shook his hand and replied with something boring and polite. A warm arm slipped into his and he froze.

“Oh, here you are, Nick,” a familiar voice said. “Sorry I'm late.” Fury looked down into Agent Romanoff's smiling face. She was wearing a blonde wig and a blue dress, something sleek and conservative to blend into the event. She stood on her toes to brush her mouth against his cheek.

“Cornish is Janus,” she whispered. Ah. There it was. A month ago, Fury had assigned Agent Romanoff to ascertain the identity of Janus, a federal employee leaking information to the highest bidder. She worked fast. He hadn't expected her to close in for another two weeks.

“Mr. Cornish,” Fury said. “I'd like to introduce-”

“Nora,” Romanoff interrupted. “Nora Fury.” She held out her right hand. Her left came up to tug at her necklace, as if she was nervous, and the light glinted off a thin gold band around her ring finger.

“-my wife,” finished Fury, smiling tightly.

“Charmed,” replied Cornish, and shook her hand as well. “I didn't realize Director Fury was married.”

“Oh, Nick likes to keep his personal life personal,” said Romanoff with a smile. She leaned into Fury, resting her head on his shoulder. “And I'm not usually one for parties, but it's important to show up every once in a while as a show of support, don't you think?”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“Nora,” Fury said. “Why don't we go get a drink? We'll be right back, Mr. Cornish.”

“Of course,” Cornish replied, his smile just as bland as the rest of him.

“ _The Thin Man_ , Romanoff? Really?” muttered Fury as they walked to a table set with several glasses of champagne that was probably room-temperature by now. She smiled at him—her real smile, not the one she used for missions. It was sharper and less pretty than her fake smile; Fury liked it better.

“I'd hoped you'd get the reference,” she said. “Do you think we could get away with having a dog named Asta?”

“Don't push it, agent. Now, why the Hell did you pull that little stunt instead of waiting until after the party to report?” His tone implied that she'd better have a damn good reason.

“I ascertained Janus' identity about twenty minutes before he arrived. His last message said he was going to gain access to someone in a high position of authority tonight. Considering he's been under pressure to turn over higher-level SHIELD info, and I knew you'd be here tonight, I thought I'd stop by.” She spoke briskly and levelly, skimming over the details he knew she'd include in her written report.

“And the whole Nick and Nora Charles act?” he prompted. She flashed him another smile.

“Well, it'll be a lot harder to bug you if he's also watching me,” she said, as if it was obvious. “Plus, if he starts talking about how he met your 'wife' at a party, the buyers will decide pretty quickly that he's not a trustworthy source. Everyone knows you’re married to the job.”

“And if they do believe him, we can feed them false information,” Fury continued. Romanoff snorted.

“If they do believe him, they're not as good as we thought and unlikely to be a significant threat,” she said dismissively. Fury allowed himself a smile.

“Of course, you do realize you've cozied up to me in front of some of the worst damn gossips in the nation.” He looked around, and, sure enough, there were people looking over at them and muttering, eyes shining at the chance to finally have something on SHIELD Director Nick Fury.

“You’re right, sir,” Romanoff hung her head. “You never should have allowed one of your employees to accompany you to the gala. You couldn’t have known she’d take advantage of the free champagne and turn out to be an overly affectionate drunk. At least you told her off, though, and she’ll spend the next hour being suitably professional before leaving early.” Her voice was amused, even as her face twisted into something ashamed. They were turned away from Cornish, and Fury had to admit her plan wasn’t a bad one. Not perfect; he’d have to do some damage control before the night was out, and any plan relying on word-of-mouth was flawed. Still.

“I don’t know what’s less probable—me bringing someone, let alone an employee, to a gala, or you getting drunk on champagne,” he said.

“Well, you’re an old man,” Romanoff smiled. She straightened up. “Maybe you’re getting sentimental in your twilight years.”

“Careful, Romanoff. I’m still your superior, and I could kick your ass.”

“You could try.” Romanoff took a deep breath, like she was trying to collect herself. “All right, let’s go talk to Cornish some more.”

“ _Old man_ ,” Fury muttered. “You know Cornish thinks we’re married, right?”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” she replied. “Tall, dashing director of a spy agency with an eyepatch? Totally dreamy.”

“You're not as funny as you think you are, Romanoff.” She flashed him another of her real smiles before pasting on her false shiny one for Cornish.

Tomorrow they'd have to have a talk about professionalism and acceptable behavior and deviations from assigned missions, but she'd done well, thought Fury. He respected that in an agent. He watched as she planted a tracker in Cornish’s pocket, and a less-traceable one under his lapel. Cornish would undoubtedly find the first—it was even odds on the second. Romanoff liked to test people.

The evening was looking up.


End file.
